05
Back at the hospital, Brian stayed by Laurel’s bedside all night. The next morning, the doctor confirmed she was fine, just shaken up. Relieved, Brian finally remembered he was supposed to pick me up from the banquet hall.
He quickly called his assistant. “Send a car to the Bayfront General. I need to go to the hotel to get Angela.”
There was an awkward pause on the other end of the line before the assistant stammered, “Mr. Rocha, your
fiancée… she…”
“What about her?” Brian asked impatiently.
“She… slit her wrists and… she’s dead,” the assistant finally managed to say. “The doctors said she died from blood loss. Her body is in the morgue, in the basement of Bayfront General Hospital.”
“What?” Brian froze, his mind reeling. “No, that’s impossible! Angela wouldn’t… She wouldn’t do that. Did she
asked you to tell me this?”
His voice rose in disbelief, panic lacing his words. Just hours ago, I had been standing beside him, alive and
well. How could she be gone?
“Brian, is everything okay?” Laurel’s soft voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. “Is something happen to
Angie? Oh my God, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to take me to the hospital.”
Brian hung up without replying. He gently brushed Laurel’s hair back and murmured, “It’s okay. I just have to take
care of something.”
She reached out and grabbed his hand, holding it firmly. “Don’t leave me, Brian. I’m scared,” she pleaded.
“I have to go,” he said firmly, rejecting her for the first time. As he pulled away, an unshakable feeling of loss
settled in her chest.
***
In the cold, sterile morgue, Brian watched as his assistant pulled back the white sheet covering my supposed corpse. He reached out, his hand trembling as he touched the pale, lifeless face.
life.
Just days ago, this face had been vibrant, nestled against his chest as we slept. Now, it was cold and devoid of
His fingers brushed against my lips, now icy and without warmth. A memory flashed in his mind–my laughter, my voice calling his name. Grief and guilt threatened to consume him as he stared at the woman he had so easily cast aside, now lost to him forever.
A chilling sensation crept up from his fingertips, seeping into his heart.
“She would never slit her own wrist. How did they found her?” Brian asked, barely believing it.
The assistant stood solemnly, recounting the incident. “An employee left their bag at the venue. Early this morning, while retrieving it with the staff, they found her unconscious in pool of blood. By the time she arrived at the hospital, it was too late.”
The assistant hesitated, then added, “The doctors confirmed she died of blood loss.”
Brian’s grip tightened on the assistant’s shoulders as he erupted in a fit of rage. “Blood loss? How’s that
possible? There were dozens of people at that damn venue. How could no one notice she was there?”
